


His Mind, His Lips

by larryent



Series: Power of Youth [4]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: 16-Year-Old Louis Tomlinson, Age Difference, Author Harry, Bottom Louis, Larry Stylinson Is Real, M/M, No Smut, Short Story, Top Harry, power of youth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-30
Updated: 2017-04-30
Packaged: 2018-10-25 13:36:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10765311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/larryent/pseuds/larryent
Summary: Harry is a popular author and a multi-millionaire at the age of 26 and Louis is his biggest fan. Oh, and Louis is sixteen.larryent april 2017





	His Mind, His Lips

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings:  
> > no smut ( sorry )  
> > age difference

"Oh my," The boy tugged at his suspenders feeling his own breath begin to pick up, "God."

All he wanted was to go to work, have a normal day full of rushing customers, go home only to reek of coffee beans and chocolate. But, today; the only day that he didn't brush his hair was the day his favourite author walked through the doors of this little cafe.

Standing at nearly six feet, covered head to toe in 'Gucci' and 'YSL', with hair falling down to his shoulders and, a pride pin on his breast pocket - was the man who changed Louis' life with a novel full of different combinations of twenty-six letters.

The small picture on the back of Louis' wrinkled copy of 'Butterflies, Blue Skies and, Your Eyes' - which was his all-time favourite - absolutely did no justice to how angelic the man looked in reality. His lips were plumper and his hair seemed more curly, his eyes brighter.

Louis had no time to react before the man was walking up towards the cash register, "Hi,"

The sixteen year old boy could've died right then and there - Harry's smile momentarily blinding him, "Holy fuck,"

Louis watched as Harry's eyes widened as he pushed his white sunglasses up on his head, the boy fumbled with his words, "I'm-goodness," Louis rubbed a hand over his face, feeling his cheeks heat up, "You're Harry Styles."

The man laughed, and it was deeper than in interviews, throwing his head back and leaning onto the counter, "Yes, it is.." Harry's green eyes flickered to the tag on Louis' shirt, "Louis."

"Um-I'm sorry," Louis bit his lip glancing at his sweaty palms, "What can I get you for today?"

The taller man pulled out his wallet, "I'll have a coffee with a shot of peppermint," Louis nearly died when Harry pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, "and a slice of the cheesecake topped with caramel, please."

The sixteen year old boy regained control of his arms that had been hanging lifelessly at his sides, "Uh-of course, Mr. Styles."

Harry pulled a wallet from his pants and chuckled, "Call me Harry, Mr. Styles makes me feel old."

After paying, Louis whispered a small, "Thank you." Before beginning to make what Harry had ordered.

"So, Louis." Harry leaned his elbow on the counter, watching as the boy mixed his coffee, "I take it that you've read my novels before."

Louis laughed, "Is it that oblivious?

"Just a bit."

"Well," Louis started, "I love your published first book."

"Butterflies, Blue Skies, and Your Eyes?" Harry asked, taking a seat at one of the bar stools, "Eh, not one of my most popular ones."

Louis gasped, almost offended, that book was his life, "Nonsense! I read it everyday."

Harry sipped on his coffee, looking around the vintage-ish cafe. With its dozens of fairy lights, oldish wooden chairs, and flowery aroma, he wouldn't mind coming here again. Harry took a bite out of his cheesecake and nearly moaned, definitely one of the best cakes he has ever eaten, "Have you ever tried yourself?"

"Writing?" Louis shook his head, shifting the band of the suspenders on his shoulders, "A little bit. Not much though."

"Mhm, I wouldn't mind writing with you, Louis."

"Me?"

Louis' favourite author in the entire universe was willing to actually write with him? Jesus, this must be a dream.

"Yeah, it's an excuse so I can see you again." Harry watched as the boy's cheeks went a blazing red.

The two continued to chat, Louis freaking out every single time Harry smiled but also trying to conceal the bubbly feeling in his stomach because Harry was so charming.

Louis had learned more about Harry in the one hour they spent talking than in watching dozens of interviews. He told Harry about his family and his school - mentioning that he was sixteen to which may or may not have gotten Harry more interested in the boy.

Harry talked about his own family, how he was in town to spend time with them but they wouldn't arrive until next week. Louis learned that Harry valued equality over fame and fortune - even if the pride pin he wore wasn't enough - and he got most of his inspiration from life experiences.

It wasn't surprising that they could talk for hours but Harry had gotten a call from a friend and had to leave despite Louis' cute little pout.

"Here," Harry scribbled on a napkin before holding it out to the smaller boy, "Call me when you're free, hm?"

"Yeah, of course."

* * *

"Hello?" Louis heard a voice rasp through the speaker.

He pulled at a loose string on his sweater, "Hi, is this Harry?"

"Lou!" The man exclaimed, "I haven't seen you in a few days, stopped by the cafe and you weren't there. Might I say, I'm a little bit upset that you didn't tell me when you had a day off."

"Oh, be quiet." Louis giggled, slipping on his glasses, "Anyway, school just finished and I've got nothing to do.. So.." He trailed off.

"Want to meet me somewhere? Or I can pick you up and we can go to my hotel?"

"Yeah, I'll text you my address."

And that was how Louis found himself biting off his fingernails and pacing around his sister's room as she listened quietly to him.

"-What if he thinks I'm too boring?" Louis asked feeling his palms sweat, "He writes masterpieces and I'm still in high school!"

"Louis, you need to calm down." His sister rested her hands on his shoulders, "He is obliviously interested in you otherwise he wouldn't have invited you to write with him in the first place."

Louis had no time to reply before there was a knock on the door, and his mother shouting, "Coming!"

"Hi, I'm here for Louis."

"Louis! You have a guest!"

Harry heard footsteps making their way down the stairs and immediately smiled when he saw the little blue-eyed boy come into view. Wearing light blue jeans, lilac sweater that ate his torso, and white duffel bag swung over his shoulder.

"Hi," Louis waved, turning towards his mom, "Mom, this is Harry." He gestured to the tall man at the door, "Harry this is... Mom."

"It's always nice to meet Louis' friends." She smiled warmly and shook Harry's hand, "Do you want to come inside?"

"Actually, mom, Harry and I were going to his place."

Her eyes widened, before she winked, "Oh, I get it."

Louis' mouth dropped open, "Mom!"

"What?" She asked, "I'm all hip, and I know your slang."

Louis shook his head and pressed a kiss to her cheek before practically sprinting out the doors. Harry bid farewell to Louis' mom and turned around only to see Louis already sitting in his car.

"I'm sorry about her." Louis said as soon as Harry opened the door, his head in his hands.

"Don't be, she's funny." Harry started the car just as Louis lifted his face from his hands, his red cheeks making an appearance, "Do you like music?"

"Love it, I have exactly thirty-four CDs at home, and listen to one everyday."

"Wow," Harry smiled, impressed, "Do you have a favourite artist?"

"Ever heard of Lana Del Rey?"

Louis gasped as Harry shook his head, eyes glued on the road.

"I'm quite offended." Louis frowned, and through the corner of his eye, saw the boy searching through his bag, "Ah, there you are."

Harry glanced at Louis as he whipped out a CD, "You brought one?"

"You never know when you need a little bit of Lana Del Rey."

Louis carefully placed the CD into the slot and waited for the first track to play.

"This is probably one of my ultimate favourite songs." Louis said as soon as he heard the familiar humming and soft keys of the piano echo through the speakers.

"I've been out on that open road." Her enchanting voice brought emotion and relaxation to Louis' ears.

The unforgettable melody of her vocals in tune with the fragile beat of drums, a song worth listening to for hours on end.

"So, you told me that you like one of my novels?"

"Love." Louis corrects.

"Do you have a favourite part?" Harry asked, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel to the beat of the song.

"All of it. Every single word." The sixteen year old boy gushed, "The way you use your language, it's almost hypnotizing. The imagery and metaphors are what keep me hooked."

"Thanks, Darling."

Louis felt his cheeks heat up and averted his eyes to the blurring trees by his side.

* * *

"Wow," Louis manged to choke out. 

One of the most expensive hotels in the country stood in all it's glory. It's dark bricks contrasting with the gold and whites of the windows and little flower pots. 

Louis had no time to admire and grasp the fact that this will probably be the only time in his life that he'd be in front of  _The Grand Abigail_ , because Harry was already hopping out and handing his keys to one of the valets.

"C'mon, Lou."

Scrambling to grab his bag and practically ripping his CD out from the car and stumbling out the door, almost falling face-first into the pavement if it hadn't been for an arm around his waist hoisting him up as if he weighed nothing. 

"Woah there, Darling." A deep voice rumbled from behind Louis as he was pulled into a hard chest. 

"Sorry." Louis mumbled, embarrassment clear on his face while he walked along side Harry through the tall hotel doors. 

"Don't be." Harry replied, waving to the receptionist. 

Now, they stood in the elevator and patiently waited for it to reach the top floor where Harry's  _suite_ was. 

"Huh, what're the chances." Louis laughed, hearing the friendly opening piano keys. 

_"Gargoyles, standing, at the front of your gate."_

"Is this that Del Rey?" Harry asked, rubbing small circles on Louis' hip. 

He still hadn't managed to tear his hand away from the boy, his brain screaming at him to do so but his heart begging not to. 

"It is," Louis grinned, following Harry out the elevator doors as they opened. 

"What about you write a sequel?" Louis asked, leaning back onto the couch. 

They had been writing or  _trying to write_  for almost an hour.  

He watched Harry bite on one end of his pencil, "I like leaving things to the imagination. Letting the audience decide what happens to their favourite characters."

Louis hummed, taking in Harry's suite. It was bigger than the first floor of his house by far. A wide open living room stacked with couches and a flat screen television, and a luxurious kitchen. 

"Have you ever thought about writing poems?"

"Yeah, but not my thing." Harry replied, scooting closer to the boy, "I want to write another story but I haven't had much inspiration these past few weeks, though."

"What gives you inspiration?" Louis asked, feeling the heat of Harry's body.

"I don't know, everyday things usually." Harry threw an arm around the back of the couch, propping his feet up on the coffee table, "Like I'd see something and boom; an idea for a story."

Louis jumped up from the couch, nearly smacking Harry in the face with his hand, "Let's go find you a story."

That was how Harry found himself standing in a line before a large tent, "Really, Lou?"

The sixteen year old squealed happily, "Yes! I haven't been to the carnival in years."

Neither had Harry, not since he was a teenager and still living with his mother. After paying and slithering through a crowd of people, Louis could barely contain himself. 

Pure excitement oozing from him, Louis practically yanked the older man to the ticket booth. 

They played at almost every booth and went on all the small little rides. To say the least, they were having a blast. Even if Harry was stopped a couple of times to sign autographs. 

Never had Louis ever imagined himself with his favourite author at the town's yearly carnival with a large teddy bear in one hand - that Harry had won him - and the latter's hand in his free one. 

Now, they were being loaded onto the Ferris Wheel, the one that Louis had been saving for last since it was almost closing time and the sun had set. The moon shining in all it's glory and stars dazzling by it's sides - Louis couldn't have wished for a better way to end off his and Harry's adventure. 

The two were alone and Louis' eyes were focused on them getting further and further from the ground. He was oblivious this whole night; Harry had been staring adoringly at him since the start and he had no idea that he may have stolen the heart of the twenty-six year old man.

"Isn't it the most beautiful thing you've ever seen?" Louis asked, in awe at the sparkling city lights and blinking carnival signs. 

Harry shook his head, leaning against the railing next to Louis, "No," He answered, sliding his hand over the metal pole and slowly taking a hold of the boy's, "You are."

"That's so cliche, Harry."

"What do you expect? I write cliche romance novels for teenagers for a living."

Louis giggled, playing with the rings on Harry's finger, "Speaking of that, have you found your inspiration yet?"

Harry lost his breath, Louis looked magical. 

The lights from outside the cart shining perfectly on his face, casting shadows over his lips and highlighting his nose. His eyes holding a sparkle that could replace the stars in the sky and his eyelashes ghosting his cheekbones every time he blinked. 

"I have." Harry said, his voice low.

Louis grinned, "Tell me about it."

"Well," Harry started, eyes scanning Louis' angelic face, "It's about two boys this time. One is spontaneous and outgoing, the other is more observant and enjoys the smaller things in life." He continued as Louis listened intently, "Somehow they're prefect for each other, but one of the boys has no idea of the other falling for them in every single way." 

"And?"

"And, the rest is a surprise."

Louis pouted, "You can't do that."

"Yes I can, Darling."

"At least give me a hint."

Harry smirked, feeling the cart slowly return to ground level again, "One them is named Louis."

* * *

It's been three years.

Three of the best years of their lives.

Harry finished the novel, and titled it 'Next to You.'

He didn't forget to credit his now nineteen year old boyfriend, 'A story worth your time, written by Louis Tomlinson and Harry Styles.'

The novel had been a hit, being sold out just two days after being put out onto shelves causing the factories to print out another few thousand copies.

The two did promo too, after Louis asked his mother to let him travel the world - she hesitated but eventually gave in since she trusted Harry more than any soul could understand.

It took time for the media to cope with Harry Styles, a twenty-nine year old man, dating Louis Tomlinson, a boy ten years younger. But after a couple of months, the media couldn't get enough of the two and jumped at them whenever they went out in public, begging for the love-sick couple to share how they met. In short, the media was in love with their love.

"I love you."

Louis peered over his textbook, glasses perched on the tip of his nose, "I love me too."

Harry laughed, stirring the pasta on the stove, "Almost done over there, sweetcheeks?"

"Ugh, no." Louis sighed, pushing his glasses higher, "I have writers block."

"Talk me through it, babes."

"Well," Louis cleared his throat, "It starts with Edward and William - the names you chose, you sap - and they've already met and all that but I don't know what should happen next."

"Hm," Harry hummed, walking towards his boyfriend and tied his arms around his waist, "What if they go to a carnival?"

"Haz, we can't use that same 'carnival date' in all of our novels." Louis protested, giggling when he felt Harry's lips nibble lightly on his ear.

"What about a concert? A Lana Del Rey concert."

"Are you trying to get me to write about all of our dates? What's next, our skiing holiday?"

The taller laughed, "If you want."

Harry couldn't contain his fond since it was practically suffocating. He watched as Louis grumbled cutely before returning to writing. After peeking over his boyfriend's shoulder, Harry confirmed that Louis was definitely using his idea of 'Edward' and 'William' going on a ski trip.

But, goodness, does he love his boy. His pretty little boy who has electrifying blue eyes, very kissable pink lips, a button nose and high cheekbones. Not only his appearance had Harry hooked but his spirit. His free-flying soul that was just dripping with happiness.

How had Harry fallen so hard in just a night at a carnival was a mystery worth the wonder. Maybe it was Louis' giggle that out-beat any chime of the best bells, his mind, his lips, or his ability to always surprise Harry no matter the circumstances.

All Harry knew, was that he would happily spend the rest of his years holding the boy he deeply loved. Also, that he wanted to take Louis to a music festival, like Leeds.


End file.
